Bad Habits
by azazelbunny
Summary: More Habitlex, also pretty gory but much less so than 'A Force of Habit'. Let's see how many Habitlex fics I can make using bad puns as titles before it gets too far out of hand, shall we? MH/EMH crossover (categorizing is hard on this site ok), nsfw.


**[Dammit I said I was going to sleep but I accidentally Habitlexed instead. Crap.]**

**_(whispers: das, das look I did the fic for you, I almost forgot about it but I didn't I did the thing I made you the thing, please forgive me for taking this long ilu)_**

**_WARNINGS: Blood, Gore, dubcon (dangerously close to noncon), forced pill-taken (tagged for one person in particular)._**

* * *

"Stop moving or so help you _god _I will pull out these stitches and make it _deeper._"

Alex's muscles went tense. This wasn't like him, to be concerned about the wounds he inflicted on his little sex toy. He hadn't even bothered to finish this time, he just pulled on some pants, muttering profanity the whole while, and went straight to stitching up the freshly made gash in his side. Some days exposed bone made him laugh, others it apparently made him a nurse. Habit was unpredictable to say the least.

"Why?"  
"Why what?" Habit looked up from his work long enough to glare at Alex.  
"Why bother stitching it up. You're just going to make more."  
"I can see your rib cage, Kralie, I'm pretty sure this one needs stitches."  
"So did the last twelve."

Habit sighed and lay the needle gently on Alex's stomach. He sat back on his heels, looking over the naked, prone body before him. It was making him uncomfortable, actually. Bloody, brutal, _heartless_ Habit, looking at all the scars he'd left on him with something dangerously close to remorse in his eyes. But Alex knew that couldn't be it. He was disposable. The scars meant nothing at all.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Alex..."  
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. He'd never called him by his first name before.  
"You're my favorite. Yeah, I get a little carried away sometimes, get a little stab happy now and again...And I forget how _squishy _you actually are. You all break so easily. Both mentally and physically, now that I think about it." He resumed his work, gingerly wiping away blood around the new stitches. "And I'd actually be a bit upset if I broke you. Nobody likes it when I'm upset so, can't have that, now can we?"

He smiled, that psychotic smile that Alex had come to find almost comical, as he tied off the last stitch. Habit stood up and wiped his bloody hands on his pants, disappearing into the other room and leaving Alex naked and alone on the couch.

He sighed and leaned his head back. The ties around his wrist were painfully tight, the collar on his neck pinched his skin, and there were still three more oozing cuts on his body. Yet Habit had stitched one up. Out of concern. Selfish concern, yes, but it was still something that Alex thought he was incapable of. His brow furrowed for a moment as he recalled Habit's explanation: He was his favorite. To his surprise he felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of Habit fucking other people. Habit was _his _maniac. He closed his eyes and laughed at the thought. "His" maniac. That was wrong on so many levels.

"Hey, no napping on the job, Kralie." Alex jumped. He hadn't even heard Habit come back in. He had a bottle of water and started to press a little white pill against his lips. "Open up, just like you do for me."  
Alex stared at him blankly. There was no way in hell he was taking pills from this man.  
"Open."  
Alex turned his face away from his hand.  
"Open your fucking mouth." Habit grabbed his jaw roughly and forced the pill past his lips, pouring water down his throat shortly after.

After a brief coughing fit, Alex felt a warm tingling sensation travel through his body. He felt...numb?

_"A painkiller?"  
_"Better than killer pain, _hey_!" Habit made little pistols with his hands and smiled wide. He laughed a little despite himself. Maybe he was just a bit doped up, but Habit didn't seem so bad right about then. Ok, so he was insane and violent, but he also made terrible puns at the worst of times, and that was endearing. Sort of.  
"You're fucking insane."  
"And you're only just figuring this out?" He flopped down on the couch, resting his head in Alex's lap. "That'll wear off in a couple of hours, by the way. And when it does I'm going to fuck you senseless and probably stab you again."  
"I know."  
"Aw come on, you're not gonna take that lying down are you?"  
"Of course not. I'm going to curse at you and try to kick and bite you like I always do. I might even spit on you again."  
"That's what I like to hear." Habit sighed and closed his eyes, shifting around until he was comfortable on his lap. Alex smirked a little. Again, perhaps this was the mystery painkiller talking, but he _did _kind of enjoy the torture and the sex. And that probably wasn't a healthy, sane way to go about life. But he wasn't healthy and sane anymore, was he?

_'I should really get help for that.' _he thought, trying not to laugh out loud at his own ridiculousness. _'He's such a bad habit.'_


End file.
